I felt compelled to do this after reading at Charity Mom's most recent update.
I lost my brother almost 11 years ago. The looming anniversary of his death, June 17th, always has me lingering by that pesky black hole called "this sucks and I would rather not get out of bed today." However, seeing how his death was suicide, I would not be doing his memory any justice. He was a bright, precocious young man. Yet, his old soul was infiltrated by a nasty, genetic cinical depression that runs rampant in my family. At a gentle 16 years he succumbed to the overwhelming sadness and ended his life. I haven't been the same since and getting over his death is not even an option for me. I keep his memory firing bright everytime I feel the depression try to creep back in. He IS the reason I decided to give life a chance. His death is responsible for my LIFE.
With that being said, I will write more about him on Wednesday. For now, I will try to stop thinking and write of 100 places that I call happiness.
1. Sleeping in
2. Taylor's ravishing green-grey eyes. MUCHO JEALOUS.
3. Louis' homemade espresso. I love that friggin Cuban.
4. Booking airplane tickets for myself. I LOVE flying
5. Mom's homemade cooking
6. Nathan's massages
7. Samantha's smell. It's intoxicating.
8. Snow
9. Six Flags. <---Adrenaline Freak
10. Freshly laundered sheets
11. First backyard BBQ of the summer
12. Water skiing
13. Getting my hair washed, cut, and blown out. Almost better than sex. Almost.
14. Sex
15. Buying a pair of skinny jeans. And having them fit.
16. The ocean, the more blue-green the better.
17. Fresh lobster
18. Walking around Plaffein, Switzerland after a fresh snow fall on Christmas Day
19. Buying cigarettes in said country. At 15.
20. Staying in a 5 star hotel
21. Taking a nice cool shower after a long hot day of physical labor.
22. Picnics under the shade of giant tree, by the lake.
23. Fireworks
24. That grumbly feeling in your tummy when you haven't eaten in awhile.
25. Lactic acid build up the day after a hard workout
26. Swimming in the Ore bed
27. Copake Falls
28. Grandma's breakfast crepes
29. 100% Pure Vermont maple syrup
30. Nintendo 64
31. Nathan's steaks, tender-buttery goodness!
32. Tubing down the river
33. Ice cold Bucking Bock Rahr beer
34. Looking at my acceptance letter into Nursing School. Over and over again.
35. Hearing a song on the radio I haven't heard in ages.
36. House Parties
37. New car smell
38. White teeth
39. Losing weight
40. A clean house
41. Avatar
42. UFC sans Dana White
43. Laughing until I cry
44. iPhone
45. Being Debt-Free
46. Herbs
47. Giant Schnauzer puppies
48. Central Market
49. Weddings
50. Family Reunions
51. Reading a book in one day
52. Reuniting with old friends
53. Reading to my babies
54. Tattoos
55. The day Nate told me he loved me
56. Giving birth to my babies
57. Organizing
58. Pedicures at the spa
59. December
60. Fresh Mojitos
61. Twilight SAGA-- Dork alert
62. Campaigning for Obama in New Mexico
63. Dressing up for a hot date, Halloween, etc.
64.Waking up at 6 am on Saturday only to realize I can go BACK TO SLEEP!
65.Finding a aexy outfit that fits perfectly and at the first store I visit.
66. Planning a lavish vacation to a tropical island (I can dream, right?)
67. Riding horses
68. Looking through old photo albums
69. Genealogy
70. Old films
71.Hearing a song on the radio I haven't heard in ages.
72. MTV
73. Online school classes
74. Winston Churchill
75. Sno-cones...mmm bahama bucks
76. Grocery shopping by myself
77. Converse
78. New Orleans
79. Hook 'em HORNS!
80. Watching my girls enjoy something new
81. Amazon.com
82. Receiving packages in the mail
83. Giving gifts
84. Writing
85. Hiking the mountains in California
86. Jewel-the artist
87. Funky jewelry
88. Funnel cake
89. The State Fair
90. Museums
91. Growing my own produce
92 Giving back
93. My family
94. Baking
95. The relationship with my seeester. She rocks.
96. My German/Irish heritage
97. Ghost Hunters/Paranormal Activity/Any show that involves ghosts
98. GNO baby!!
99. Traveling the world, one day
100. Learning to speak another language
This makes me appreciate life all over again!
-Nat
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Zwei
His skin was so cold, so rigid. His normally soft, tender cheeks were no longer protruding with joy and laughter; but replaced with the sickening effects of formaldehyde. I sobbed wildly and uncontrollably. My entire body shook with grief and rocked me to the core. "That's not my brother! That's not my brother!" is all I could manage to shriek. I placed a shaking hand on his chest, dying to feel his chest rise with life; dying to feel his strong heartbeat again. I could not bear to look at such a familiar face that now looked so foreign. I glanced furiously around the room for an escape I could not find. Nothing could take me away from my Bubba. Nothing could stop the mind-numbing pain. I grabbed the nearest chair and sat-waiting for it all to be over, and then it happened.
My giant of a father, 6'2, 6'4 in boots, stepped waywardly to the hollow structure that held his first child, his first son. His heavy sobs shook the room silent. Everyone glanced at the man who always remained so calm and stoic-even in the most grave of situations. The low, gutteral, gut wrenching howls that came from the depths of his soul emitted into the tiny room. 16 years of love and complete adoration came through his verbal mourning. This would be the first and last time I would hear my father show such naked emotion, it was the only time I heard him cry.
My giant of a father, 6'2, 6'4 in boots, stepped waywardly to the hollow structure that held his first child, his first son. His heavy sobs shook the room silent. Everyone glanced at the man who always remained so calm and stoic-even in the most grave of situations. The low, gutteral, gut wrenching howls that came from the depths of his soul emitted into the tiny room. 16 years of love and complete adoration came through his verbal mourning. This would be the first and last time I would hear my father show such naked emotion, it was the only time I heard him cry.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
My story
The only thing I ask of you is this. Please, do not plagarize my work. This is my only talent.
It’s hard, sometimes, to face who you really are. The person you have to stare at in the mirror when you feel the worst, when you feel the most inadequate. This morning was my time. I touched my acne ravished skin and began to wonder why my soft porcelain skin gave up on me only two months ago. My small forehead glared at me with stressed induced wrinkles-these were new. I polished my scratched, ill-prescribed and war torn glasses of 3 years. They endured children’s temper tantrums, crayola, and fits of rage as I would slam them against the wall in anguish over a fight with my partner. They looked as weathered and miserable as my soul felt at the moment. I shoved them back onto the rim of my nose and looked closely. The pig nose; the perpetual flare of my nostrils and the blackheads which covered the bulbous tip caused me to slam my fists against the sink. What the fuck is happening to me? Flustered and eager to punish myself, I pulled my air dried mane into a ponytail and examined my ears. They stuck out like sore thumbs. I ripped the band out. My gorgeous locks were beginning to wither and break off. The stress and boredom of my life was ravaging my most prized possession and probably the only thing my partner likes about me physically-my lush, naturally auburn sheath of silky hair. As Murphy’s Law states, it will take my beauty from me, but not my ass. I felt cheated, burned, and robbed. I felt helpless, angry, and out of control. The panic seeped into my lungs and tightened. I couldn’t control it. I kneeled to the ground and started to choke. The tears flew down my throat and all over my face. The moment was a profound one. I am either going to die or change my life.
Too bad I chose the former. I was only 23.
It’s hard, sometimes, to face who you really are. The person you have to stare at in the mirror when you feel the worst, when you feel the most inadequate. This morning was my time. I touched my acne ravished skin and began to wonder why my soft porcelain skin gave up on me only two months ago. My small forehead glared at me with stressed induced wrinkles-these were new. I polished my scratched, ill-prescribed and war torn glasses of 3 years. They endured children’s temper tantrums, crayola, and fits of rage as I would slam them against the wall in anguish over a fight with my partner. They looked as weathered and miserable as my soul felt at the moment. I shoved them back onto the rim of my nose and looked closely. The pig nose; the perpetual flare of my nostrils and the blackheads which covered the bulbous tip caused me to slam my fists against the sink. What the fuck is happening to me? Flustered and eager to punish myself, I pulled my air dried mane into a ponytail and examined my ears. They stuck out like sore thumbs. I ripped the band out. My gorgeous locks were beginning to wither and break off. The stress and boredom of my life was ravaging my most prized possession and probably the only thing my partner likes about me physically-my lush, naturally auburn sheath of silky hair. As Murphy’s Law states, it will take my beauty from me, but not my ass. I felt cheated, burned, and robbed. I felt helpless, angry, and out of control. The panic seeped into my lungs and tightened. I couldn’t control it. I kneeled to the ground and started to choke. The tears flew down my throat and all over my face. The moment was a profound one. I am either going to die or change my life.
Too bad I chose the former. I was only 23.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Why I gave birth
Taylor: MOMMMMMMMMM! I told you! Daddy is not at work, a lady answered his phone and he's not available! She always answers his phone, everyday! Is she my new mom or something?! Gosh!
She's 5, and the woman she's talking about is his automated voicemail at work. I can only imagine what she has to say about the lady on his GPS.
She's 5, and the woman she's talking about is his automated voicemail at work. I can only imagine what she has to say about the lady on his GPS.
Monday, September 14, 2009
It's happened
I didn't get in.
What a way to start out, right?
I knew it was coming. I expected it. I prepared myself for rejection.
Yet, it still sucks. Sucks hard.
I have contemplated writing about it for several hours now. I am trying to not obsess over it. Obsessing is how I handle every issue in my life. I obsess mindlessly, looking for all the ways I managed to royally screw something up. Well, I did. Now it's time to deal with the aftermath. It's more gory than a Rob Zombie film. I have some serious Sunshine Cleaning to do.
I feel disappointed and frustrated. I feel the most guilt for letting down my DP. (DP=Domestic Partner; the acronym will toy with your imagination). He has worked hard, only for me to fail. I feel pretty small right now. I owe him more than the effort I put forth.
I wanted to thank a few people for taking me as far as they did:
My lovely DP
My mommy
My father
My mini-me's Sam & Tay
Heather & Maddie Spohr
Jenny & Allie Scott
I think about how I got to this virtuous plan in the first place and about everyone who drove me to this point. My faith in myself is restored and I am ready to tackle this beastly process; no matter how futile my efforts seem to everyone else. (Everyone else=Me) I am my own worst enemy, I disappoint myself more than I have anyone else in my entire life. I will be reapplying until they start to pity me and shove me in, but until then, I must quote my man George Burns:
"Don't stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed."
Inspiration is priceless.
What a way to start out, right?
I knew it was coming. I expected it. I prepared myself for rejection.
Yet, it still sucks. Sucks hard.
I have contemplated writing about it for several hours now. I am trying to not obsess over it. Obsessing is how I handle every issue in my life. I obsess mindlessly, looking for all the ways I managed to royally screw something up. Well, I did. Now it's time to deal with the aftermath. It's more gory than a Rob Zombie film. I have some serious Sunshine Cleaning to do.
I feel disappointed and frustrated. I feel the most guilt for letting down my DP. (DP=Domestic Partner; the acronym will toy with your imagination). He has worked hard, only for me to fail. I feel pretty small right now. I owe him more than the effort I put forth.
I wanted to thank a few people for taking me as far as they did:
My lovely DP
My mommy
My father
My mini-me's Sam & Tay
Heather & Maddie Spohr
Jenny & Allie Scott
I think about how I got to this virtuous plan in the first place and about everyone who drove me to this point. My faith in myself is restored and I am ready to tackle this beastly process; no matter how futile my efforts seem to everyone else. (Everyone else=Me) I am my own worst enemy, I disappoint myself more than I have anyone else in my entire life. I will be reapplying until they start to pity me and shove me in, but until then, I must quote my man George Burns:
"Don't stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed."
Inspiration is priceless.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Is it almost here?
This moment is a long time coming.... Long if you consider a year to be long, which I do, becuase my major includes nothing but math and science. If you don't know me, than lets just say this. I am a really good kiss ass.
I apply for nursing in January. I am so terrified that I could cry, throw a tantrum, or actually mop my floor for once. However, only one of those takes the least amount of effort, so I will stick with crying. I hear rumors of "they only take 4.0!" "well, I heard a rumor that the nursing advisor said her B students are her best students" "I am retaking A&P I because I got a C last time." *Gulp* I got a C in A&P I and I thought I was doing ok. Everyone I talk to wants to apply for nursing to get in Fall 2009. I have so much competition to wade through. I have such a fear of failing that I am still up at 4 a.m studying for my stats test on Monday.
I am, simply put, a wannabe nursing student. With all the sciences classes I have taken, am taking, and will take; I almost believe that I will be admitted into the stringent program. How foolish am I. This program is a rigorous one with many expectations. Immunizations, PSB examinations, letters of recommendation, applications to fill in, medical records, dental records, TB tests, and a plethora of information I have to remember. Only to apply and possibly rejected. I don't feel as if I have any other option at this point. I don't want to do anything else with my life. Nursing is for me. I want to help people, I want to adminster meds, write up paperwork, insert IV's, hold newborns, deliever babies, console mothers, and care for my patients like I would my own family if they were sick.
I need as much support as I can get this semester. I need to receive two 4.0's in order to feel confident in my application. I want someone to look at my application and realize that I am not just a piece of paper with grades; I want this more than anything.
There will be many more blogs to come. Some funny, some sad, some depressing, and some outright bitchfests. This process isn't even close to being over. One chapter is about to end, and the other will begin soon enough. In the mean time, I need to study so hard that I can't handle it anymore. I will do what it takes, and it is going to take more than I could have ever dreamed of.
Peace in the Middle East
-Nat
I apply for nursing in January. I am so terrified that I could cry, throw a tantrum, or actually mop my floor for once. However, only one of those takes the least amount of effort, so I will stick with crying. I hear rumors of "they only take 4.0!" "well, I heard a rumor that the nursing advisor said her B students are her best students" "I am retaking A&P I because I got a C last time." *Gulp* I got a C in A&P I and I thought I was doing ok. Everyone I talk to wants to apply for nursing to get in Fall 2009. I have so much competition to wade through. I have such a fear of failing that I am still up at 4 a.m studying for my stats test on Monday.
I am, simply put, a wannabe nursing student. With all the sciences classes I have taken, am taking, and will take; I almost believe that I will be admitted into the stringent program. How foolish am I. This program is a rigorous one with many expectations. Immunizations, PSB examinations, letters of recommendation, applications to fill in, medical records, dental records, TB tests, and a plethora of information I have to remember. Only to apply and possibly rejected. I don't feel as if I have any other option at this point. I don't want to do anything else with my life. Nursing is for me. I want to help people, I want to adminster meds, write up paperwork, insert IV's, hold newborns, deliever babies, console mothers, and care for my patients like I would my own family if they were sick.
I need as much support as I can get this semester. I need to receive two 4.0's in order to feel confident in my application. I want someone to look at my application and realize that I am not just a piece of paper with grades; I want this more than anything.
There will be many more blogs to come. Some funny, some sad, some depressing, and some outright bitchfests. This process isn't even close to being over. One chapter is about to end, and the other will begin soon enough. In the mean time, I need to study so hard that I can't handle it anymore. I will do what it takes, and it is going to take more than I could have ever dreamed of.
Peace in the Middle East
-Nat
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